


Long Hours

by Cinlat



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [15]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Cormac hugs™, Cormac makes everything okay, F/M, Injury and recovery, Regret, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 23:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinlat/pseuds/Cinlat
Summary: Aric Jorgan is faced with the longest hours of his life.





	Long Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 573  
> This was written for the Prompt "Someone’s greatest fear." and turned into a sequel of this prompt from the December Writing Challenge.  
> (https://cinlat.tumblr.com/post/168338760628/dec-08-facing-something-theyre-afraid-of)

Aric paced the cramped room while waiting to hear news of his wife. Dorne was the only one allowed beyond the doors that separated the medcenter staff from those doomed to wait out hours of uncertainty. She’d gone back to check on their progress--Jorgan glanced at the wall chrono--thirty-two minutes ago, and hadn’t returned. In his mind, that usually signaled a problem.

For the last twelve hours, Aric had rehashed his and Fynta’s conversation from the night before. She had shown true fear for the first time since he’d met her, not even bothering to put the usual effort into hiding her emotions. Jorgan stopped as his gut knotted to the point of nausea. Fynta was afraid, and he’d pushed her into having this surgery anyway.

Jorgan cursed foul enough to gain Cormac’s attention. The big man set aside his holomag when Aric dropped into the chair across from him and buried his face in his hands. The cracked leather squeaked when Cormac leaned forward. “Want to talk about it?”

Jorgan shook his head, but when he opened his mouth to tell Cormac no, the wrong words spilled out. “I shouldn’t have pushed her.”

Balic shifted again, but Jorgan didn’t look from behind the safety of his fingers; couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes. After a few more seconds of silence, Cormac released a strained chuckle. “You of all people know that no one can force the boss into doing something she doesn’t want to.”

When Aric looked up, Cormac’s expression matched his tone. “All you did was remind Fynta of what she needed to do. If you’d really have forced her into that operating room, a hell of a lot more sedative would have been involved, and you’d probably be on the next table.”

Jorgan let Balic’s words sink in, nodding in appreciation when his pulse finally returned to a healthy rate. The man was right, Fynta would have been miserable at a desk job; they all knew it. A sedentary lifestyle would kill her spirit, which Jorgan wouldn’t allow. His woman was made for the battlefield. Better to take care of her leg now, when she had a family to prop her up. 

Still, Aric wondered if Fynta would hate him during the recovery for voicing such a strong opinion about a situation that wasn’t his to bear? Before he could begin fretting again, Balic’s large palm attached itself to the top of Jorgan’s head. “Stop it,” the big man said with a light shake. “She’s going to be fine.  _ You’re _ going to be fine.”

The door opened to reveal Elara, and Jorgan shot to his feet. He couldn’t get the words out, so simply stared at her in a desperate need to know if his wife was okay. “Apologies,” she began, wiping already clean hands on her pant legs. “I was rerouted for a shuttle incident, they were short-handed.” Aric nodded and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Did that mean she hadn’t been able to look in on Fynta?

Dorne crossed the room and laid a hand on Jorgan’s shoulder. “She's doing well, surprisingly accommodating while unconscious.” Aric wanted to smile at Dorne’s attempt to comfort him, but it felt more like a snarl. Elara pretended not to notice and squeezed his arm. “The surgeon's estimate another six hours, and she’ll be finished.” The Cathar let out a ragged breath, and Elara’s eyes softened. “Soon, sir. Very soon.”


End file.
